Gideon Hayes took the stairs two at a time. The sound of his boots on the metallic steps mingled with his laboured breathing, creating a cacophony that echoed up and down the shaft around which the stairs wound tightly. 

“If these stairs go on much longer,” Tanner called through heavy breaths. “We’ll be in orbit with the Challenger.”

Climbing these stairs had given Gideon a new respect for Kaedric, who’d climbed them not long before but while suffering from the symptoms of the Wasting. As difficult as running up these stairs was for Gideon and Tanner, it would have been at least twice as difficult for Kaedric.

“Not much further now,” Hayes puffed.

Behind him, Tanner scoffed. “That’s the third time you’ve said that. I’m startin’ to think you’re full of it.”

“I take it that was said with all due respect,” Gideon shouted with a chuckle.

Tanner laughed. “Of course, sir.”

When they emerged at the top of the staircase twenty seconds later, “Looks like I was right.”

“Third time’s the charm,” Tanner muttered as they walked along a metallic corridor.

Gideon wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. He was grateful for the cold air here, pleasant on his warm skin. A heavy double door at the end of the corridor marked their destination, the central control matrix for this planet’s atmospheric processors. Unsurprisingly, the door’s control panel didn’t work.

“It’s locked,” Gideon mumbled. “Think you can override the lock?”

With a shrug, Tanner replied, “I’ll give it a try.”

As Tanner kneeled beside the panel and removed the cover, Static momentarily filled the air before Kaedric’s voice boomed, “I regret the necessity of my actions, Commander Hayes. But the Vezda’s return requires a sacrifice.”

“You don’t know that they’ll return,” Gideon argued. “Not for sure. You could murder all those people for nothing.”

Kaedric didn’t reply right away. Gideon briefly wondered if he’d cut the channel, but eventually he replied, “The return of the Vezda is the only way to cure my people. I must do this.”

“You’re wrong,” Gideon shot back. “Doctor Montague’s already figured out the cause of the Wasting. It’s a vitamin D deficiency. We could cure your people.”

There was another pause. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Gideon tried to assure him, though he was certain his efforts were in vain. “Power down the atmospheric processors and come back with me. I’ll prove it to you.”

As Gideon anticipated, his pleas were falling on deaf ears. “No. The Vezda sent us the Wasting. Only they can cure it, once we prove ourselves worthy.”

A sudden spark from the door panel caused Gideon’s head to snap down to where Tanner was working, glaring at the panel. He’d just avoided receiving a nasty electrical shock. With an apologetic glance at Gideon, Tanner resumed his work.

The lights suspended from the rock ceiling of the Committee chamber flickered as Percy used the dermal regenerator on Ithara’s injured shoulder. The device wasn’t as good as those used by the Federation; there would likely be a small scar, but it would be healed, and Ithara would be pain-free.

“Kaedric is drawing power from the city’s generators,” Lethan reported from a console in the shadows at the edge of the room. It cast an orange glow over his features.

Yamada studied the information displayed on the console over Lethan’s shoulder. “If I’m interpreting this right, he’s disabled the safety protocols that are supposed to prevent him from doing what he’s doing.”

“There’s no way you can read their language already,” Percy grumbled as he deactivated the dermal regenerator.

Looking up at him, Yamada answered, ”Of course not, but I can interpret a simple diagram.”

“You’re correct,” Lethan confirmed. “Though I don’t know how he managed it.”

Alyra was perched on the edge of the dias that the Committee would sit on behind their large bench. “Can you reinstate the safety protocols?”

“No,” Lethan’s fingers furiously worked the console. “Not with the power transfer active. And I can’t disengage it. He’s locked me out.”

As Percy helped Ithara to her feet, she asked, “What will happen if you can’t stop the transfer?”

“I don’t know,” Lethan admitted after a brief pause.

The frown on Yamada’s face didn’t pass Percy by. “What is it?”

“I really hope I’m wrong about this,” Yamada began. She looked up at Percy with wide eyes. “But I think, the minute Kaedric fires the energy beam at the Challenger, power is going to feed back into the city’s power generators.”

Percy was no engineer, but he knew that wasn’t good. He approached the console flanked by Alyra and Ithara on either side of him.

“What does that mean?” Ithara asked, her brow creased.

“The generators that power your city weren’t designed to handle that much unregulated power. They’ll overload.” Yamada swallowed and, in an uneven voice, added, “The explosion will destroy the city.”

Ithara gasped and raised a hand to her mouth. Alyra and Lethan looked concerned but maintained their composure. Percy could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

“In trying to save our people,” Alyra spoke slowly, her voice thick with emotion. Her disbelief was written on her face. “Kaedric will kill us all. He will be the end of Kaelani civilisation.”

A tense silence filled the room as they digested the enormity of what Kaedric was about to do. This civilisation had endured great hardships, and with time, could rebuild and thrive again. That future was about to be taken from them because of one man’s rigid interpretation of doctrine.

“How long will we have once the power begins to feed back?” Lethan asked.

Percy could see Yamada do some quick mental arithmetic before she responded. “About ten minutes, give or take.”

“Do you have any way of evacuating the city?” Ten minutes was not a lot of time. Percy rubbed his sweaty palm on his pants leg.

Although she nodded in reply, it felt like Alyra already considered herself defeated. “There are emergency evacuation staircases that lead to the surface. 

“The climb would be too much for many of us,” Ithara explained. “And even if they survived, the surface is an irradiated wasteland.”

“No,” Percy told her, his eyebrows knitted together. “It’s not. Not anymore.”

From a corner of the room, a voice chimed in. “He’s right.”

All eyes turned to the source of the voice, where Saelith remained under guard, watching events unfold. Alyra motioned for Rionel to bring Saelith forward. The stoop in her shoulders was even more pronounced, and she refused to meet anyone’s gaze, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor.

“What do you mean?” Alyra demanded.

Saelith swallowed. “The surface is no longer irradiated. It hasn’t been for at least a generation.”

“You provided us with annual reports on the status of the surface.” Alyra carefully restrained her fury, but Percy wasn’t sure how much longer that restraint would hold. “Those reports said the surface was uninhabitable.”

A tear rolled down Saelith’s cheek. “That data was falsified.”

“Falsified,” Lethan repeated.

Saelith nodded. “Kaedric had me falsify the data to make you believe we couldn’t return to the surface. Previous High Keepers have also had the data falsified.”

“Why?” Percy jumped in.

Letting go of a shaky breath, Saelith told him, “Because only the Vezda could lead us back to the surface.”

Percy’s eyebrows shot up, high into his forehead. Yamda pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. When he glanced at Ithara, Percy found her close to tears. He walked over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She covered his hand with hers as the tears began to fall.

“You’re telling me,” Alyra began. Her voice gradually rose as she spoke. “That you and Kaedric have conspired to keep our people living underground, dying from a treatable condition because of your ridiculously rigid beliefs?”

Saeltih nodded silently. Alyra waved a hand and snapped, “Get her out of my sight.”

“Now what?” Percy looked from Alyra to Lethan.

An answer wasn’t immediately forthcoming. Eventually, Alyra replied, “Returning to the surface is still not an option. Many of my people would never survive the climb.”

“Maybe we can get you there another way,” Percy suggested.

An idea struck Percy, and he allowed himself a brief moment of excitement, but Yamada was quick to pour cold water over Percy’s idea. 

“If you’re thinking about having Challenger beam us up, forget it. It won’t work,” Yamada told him with a sad shake of her head. “There are minerals in this planet’s crust that would prevent Challenger from establishing a transporter lock. That’s why they haven’t just beamed us up. They don’t know this city is here; they can’t detect it.”

“How about,” Percy said slowly. “If we establish a link between the city’s computer network and the Challenger. Could we use the city’s internal sensors to establish a transporter lock and beam them up?”

That Yamada didn’t immediately shoot the idea down was a good sign. “It should be possible. The minerals in the crust scramble the sensors; I don’t think they would prevent us from transporting anyone through it.”

“We could beam your people to the Challenger temporarily,” Percy looked at Alyra. “and help you resettle on the surface.”

Ithara’s eyes widened. She looked at Percy hopefully. “Do you really believe we could live on the surface again?”

“I do,” Percy told her with a nod. “It won’t be easy, but you’d have as much help as you wanted, and you’ve already proven yourselves a resilient people. I think you could make a success of it.”

Ithara’s eyes shone with tears. She smiled as she wiped them away.

“What do you think?”

Before Alyra could answer, the console in front of Yamada let out a shrill shriek. The colour drained from Yamada’s features as she studied the display. She slowly looked up, eyes filled with terror, met Percy’s and in that instant, he knew what she was going to say. 

“Kaedric’s fired the energy beam from the atmospheric processor.”

Percy closed his eyes and bowed his head. They’d been so close. His heart sank as the enormity of their situation set in. As much as he didn’t want to die, Percy found his own fear was secondary to his sadness at the idea that this civilisation that had survived much was on the precipice of extinction because of the actions of one man. 

With a target lock established on the outsiders’ vessel, Kaedric just needed to wait for the power to reach critical levels. But with the outsiders trying to break past the door lock, time was a luxury he could not afford.

Standing at a console in the middle of the room, Kaedric glanced at the door behind him. The door was located on the upper level at the back of the room. It was only four metres away. It would only take seconds for the outsiders to reach him if they breached the door.

When, he mused silently. Not if.

Kaedric closed his eyes and prayed to the Vezda. The lives of two thousand people were in his hands and would be snuffed out because of his actions. He asked the Vezda for the strength to see this path through to the end and to endure what came next.

His heart leapt at the sound of a loud metallic thunk behind him. The door locks had disengaged. When he twisted to look behind him, Kaedric found Hayes and Tanner stepping inside. Hayes’ features gave little away while Tanner looked around the room.

“It’s over, Kaedric,” Hayes said, his voice carrying an edge of steel. “Power down the atmospheric processor and step away from the console.”

No, Kaedric thought. It’s not over yet.

Reaching inside his cloak, Kaedric closed his hand around his pistol. He twisted around and fired at Hayes. The shot went wide, missing its mark, but it sent Hayes and Tanner diving for cover. He squeezed the trigger twice more before turning back to the console and slamming his hand on the activation control, ensuring the atmospheric processor would discharge.

“You’re too late,” Kaedric shouted. “In two minutes, the processor will discharge, and the Vezda will have their sacrifice.”

Kaedric twisted again just in time to see Hayes vault over the consoles on the higher level behind him. The weapon was kicked from his hand. Searing pain shot through his hand and wrist, travelling the length of his arm. Kaedric screamed out in pain as Hayes grabbed him roughly and dragged him away from the console.

“No!” Kaedric screamed. “You can’t stop the coming of the Vezda!”

The floor began vibrating beneath them. The rattle of unsecured furniture was joined by a steadily growing hum as the atmospheric processors prepared to discharge their energy directly at the Challenger.

“Tanner,” Gideon barked. “Stop the firing sequence.”

Tanner rushed up to the console but stood looking at it. The sight brought a smirk to Kaedric’s lips. 

“You can’t read our language,” Kaedric taunted. “You have no idea what to do.”

On the large screen on the wall in front of them, a representation of the outsiders’ vessel in orbit was bracketed by a targeting reticule. In less than two minutes, the vessel would become an offering to the Vezda. It was the only solace Kaedric could find in the deaths of so many. But he would not be swayed from this course.

Tanner’s fingers tapped at the console’s touch interface. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on each of the screens. Each new menu only seemed to confuse Tanner more. Kaedric glanced at the countdown on the large screen.

“Less than one minute to discharge,” Kaedric told them.

Kaedric’s pulse quickened when Tanner stumbled on the screen that would allow him to change the target coordinates for the discharge, but Tanner quickly dismissed it and moved on to another screen. Just as Kaedric allowed himself to relax, Hayes’ spoke with his mouth right next to Kaedric’s ear.

“Wait, go back.” 

With Hayes distracted, his grip on Kaedric loosened. It was just enough that Kaedric could rip himself from the outsider’s hold and lunge at Tanner. Pain shot through him like an electric pulse running up and down his arm. But he endured it. He’d already endured so much pain; what was a little more? Kaedric was uncertain what he would do once he reached the younger, much more athletic man, but he needed to do something.

He didn’t get too far. Hayes’ hands closed firmly around Kaedric’s arms and pulled him back. If he were lucky, it would provide enough of a distraction to delay the outsiders until it was too late. 

Tanner navigated back to the targeting controls. Kaedric screamed in agony as he fought Hayes’ grip.

“There,” Hayes shouted as he wrestled with Kaedric. “It looks like that controls the beam’s trajectory.”

Nodding in agreement, Tanner mused, “We may not be able to stop this thing from firin’, but we may be able to stop it hittin’ Challenger.”

On the screen, the targeting reticule over the ship moved. It moved completely away from the ship with only seconds left in the countdown.

“NOOOOOOO!” Kaedric screamed. The physical pain was nothing when set against the pain of being so close to the return of the Vezda, only to have it cruelly ripped away by these outsiders. It was as if they’d plunged a knife deep into Kaedric’s gut. Tanner’s satisfied whoop only twisted the knife further.

The hum in the room was growing ever louder, as was the rattling. It was as if the two sounds were battling for supremacy. In the instant before the processor discharged, Tanner let out a triumphant whoop. They watched as a blue beam, crackling with energy, tore through the jade coloured sky.

“That was pretty damn close,” Tanner announced as he leaned over the console and let out a breath through his mouth.

“Your timing is impeccable,” Hayes joked. 

Tanner’s grin slipped. “No, I meant that was literally close. The beam only missed Challenger by about a thousand metres. Probably shook ‘em up pretty good.”

Kaedric slumped against Hayes, who was now effectively holding him up. His struggle was at an end. Without the Vezda’s return, Kaedric knew he would be branded a traitor and put on trial for his crimes. Alyra and her allies would delight in seeing him brought so low.

The only crime Kaedric had committed was the crime of caring too much for his people. He’d done what needed to be done to facilitate the return of the Vezda. If it weren’t for these meddling outsiders, he would have been successful.

The sound of console alerts and red alert klaxons filled the air on the Challenger’s bridge. Whatever had just happened rocked the Odyssey-class starship as if it were a toy being waved around by a small child. Sebastian had been thrown from his seat and found himself lying on the deck, his face pressed into the carpet.

“Report!” Captain Rix hollered as he pulled himself back into the command chair.

As Sebastian pushed himself off the deck, Commander Jalor reported, “Massive energy beam from the planet. Looks like it missed us by nine hundred and ninety two metres. If it had hit us-”

“We’d be dead,” Rix finished. 

Sebastian’s heart beat so fast and so hard that he worried it was trying to escape his chest. They’d come close to death and, what’s worse, hadn’t seen it coming until it was too late. He pushed thoughts of death from his mind and studied his console. Damage reports and casualty reports were beginning to come in. While it seemed like they’d sustained no major damage,  fifteen minor injuries were being reported from across the ship.

“Helm,” Rix barked. “Prepare to break orbit.”

Though he knew it was the wisest course of action, Sebastian couldn’t stop himself. “Sir, the away team-”

“I’m well aware, Commander,” Rix cut across him. “But we may not be so lucky if they fire another one of those beams. We need to withdraw and come up with a plan.”

An alarm at the communications console next to Sebastian caught his attention.

“Captain, incoming transmission from the surface,” Sheras announced as she pressed her earpiece tighter. Her head snapped around. “It’s Commander Hayes.”

Rix jumped to his feet. “It’s about time. Onscreen.”

“Sorry for the little jolt, sir,” Hayes said when he appeared on the main viewscreen. “It was preferable to the alternative.”

In that instant, Sebastian realised just how close they’d come to destruction. It was a chilling thought.

“Understood, Commander,” Rix replied. “What’s your status?”

“The away team is present and accounted for.”

The rest of Hayes’ report was drowned out by the blood thundering in Sebastian’s ears. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, tears threatening to overwhelm him. Present and accounted for, Sebastian repeated silently. Percy’s okay.

Another alarm from the communications console broke through his thoughts as Sheras reported, “I’m receiving another signal from the surface. It’s Doctor Montague.”

Sebastian’s head snapped around. On the viewscreen, his younger brother stood side by side with Lieutenant Yamada.

“Sir,” Percy began. “We have a problem.”

Sebastian’s relief was short-lived. In the middle of the bridge, Rix asked, “What is it?”

“The firing of the atmospheric processor has caused an energy feedback in the city’s power generators,” Yamada told them. “They’re going to overload, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

Sebastian’s shoulders slumped. Rix, thankfully, maintained his focus. “How long?”

“Less than ten minutes,” Yamada replied.

Rix frowned. “We can’t get a transporter lock through the rock. There are minerals-”

“We know, sir.” A junior officer like Yamada wouldn’t ordinarily cut the captain off like that, but time was of the essence. “But I think we have a workaround. If we establish a link between Challenger and the city’s computer, we could use the internal sensors down here to establish transporter locks.”

Glancing at Bradshaw sitting at Ops, Rix’s look silently asked if that were possible. When Bradshaw nodded, he asked, “How many people are we talking about?”

“Roughly five thousand,” Percy supplied.

Bradshaw quickly did the maths. “It’ll take us between twenty and thirty minutes if we use all transporters, including the cargo transporters.”

“Any way we can speed up the process?” Rix asked.

After thinking about it for a moment, Bradshaw answered, “If we utilise all the transporters in the shuttles and runabouts, we might be able to shave some time off that estimate. But I’m not sure it’ll be enough to evacuate everyone.”

“Do the best you can,” Rix ordered. “Bridge to sickbay, I need medical teams stationed at all transporters and in the shuttlebays. We’re evacuating five thousand people from the planet.”

Doctor Jorin’s voice came through the comm. “Understood.”

“Commander Montague,” Rix turned to Sebastian. “We’ll need to house our guests temporarily.”

Sebastian shot out of his chair, “Aye, sir.”

Percy wasn’t safe yet, but Sebastian had no choice but to place his worry to one side and focus on his duties. At least now, he had something to keep his mind occupied.